Don't Want to Think Anymore
by Broken-Latin
Summary: Sherlock is tired of thinking. John won't let him get hurt. Johnlock.


Don't Want To Think Anymore

His mind was always racing, always on the move. He hated it when thoughts bombarded his mind, not allowing him to control the images that popped in there. Sherlock had no control on his brain. The thoughts controlled him instead.

He was tired of it.

The man placed another needle to his skin, inserting it and injecting. His breath was jagged for a moment as he narrowed his eyes against the pain in his arm. But he felt better almost instantly. Thoughts slowed, details began to quit attacking his mind.

_One more_, he thought. _I'll be happy with just one more to send me over the edge._ With a final injection he could go into a state of pure mindlessness. He placed a final needle to his skin, ready to pierce his flesh with shaking hands.

"Sherlock?" John's voice called in the dark. _Not supposed to be home yet_. That was all that crossed Sherlock's mind, but it wasn't simple enough for him. Footsteps fell quickly on the floor. His flatmate came into sight.

"Sherlock, no!" John shouted, running to the man. He ripped the needle from the detective's hand. "What in god's name are you doing?"

Sherlock began to shake. "J—John." The doctor bent down to hold his flatmate close. Sherlock collapsed into him burying his face into the man's chest.

"What's going on?"

"I don't. . . I didn't . . . I don't want to think . . . anymore." John held him closer, trying to imagine what it must be like to have Sherlock's mind. It must be awful to have his mind run so quickly all the time.

"There are plenty of other ways to stop thinking." He sighed. "Come on, let's just get you to bed." John helped Sherlock to stand, stumbling to his bedroom, placing the consulting detective on his bed. John sat beside him holding tightly onto the man's hand. "How many?" Sherlock knew instantly what John meant.

"Three."

John gasped, stunned. But he knew he should be too surprised. After all, Sherlock had built up a resistance to drugs over his many years of usage. "Sherlock. . ."

Tears welled up in Sherlock's eyes before he stuttered, "I—I'm sorry, John."

"It's alright. It'll be over, and you'll get better soon. For now, we just have to wait out the effects." He gave Sherlock's hand a squeeze.

"John?"

"Yes?"

"You said that there were other ways to stop thinking. H—How do you do it?"

John sighed. "You need to get yourself a girlfriend, Sherlock," he said, shaking his head.

Sherlock frowned. "Girls aren't really my area." He paused, staring into John's eyes. "Show me." John's eyes widened. He loved Sherlock, but never thought of him as anything more than a very close friend. That is, not until now, when he had the perfect chance to be something more. He turned his face, blushing. "Please, John."

The doctor almost never heard Sherlock say please. The need in Sherlock's voice was what made him do it, more than anything else. John bent down, pressing his lips against Sherlock's.

Sherlock's heart pounded in his chest. That wasn't what he had expected (perhaps if he hadn't had so many injections, he would have seen it coming). But he allowed it to happen. His mind was being swept away. No thoughts penetrated his brain. He loved that feeling. But there was something else loved. It wasn't just the freeness of him mind. It was something else entirely. Sherlock loved _John_.

John pulled away from Sherlock, looking into those blue eyes with a flushed face and an embarrassed feeling. Sherlock whined.

"What's wrong?" John asked.

"More."

John gave a small smile before leaning back in. Sherlock wasn't sure how to react, so he just lied there, allowing it to happen. No thoughts about details or crime crossed his mind. Nothing invaded.

For once, Sherlock didn't have to think.

.

.

.

Thank you!

I wrote this while deer hunting with my dad. I'm one of those people whose mind runs way to fast, so I wrote this just because I felt like Sherlock would have the same problem. Shortly after I finished, we went deerstalking, which I thought was hilarious.

I do not own Sherlock. Sadly.


End file.
